Life - The Weekday Routine

The traffic buzzes by the window as I pep talk myself out of bed. This morning was extra difficult because somehow I managed to find the one comfy, spring free spot on our mattress during the night.

I roll out of the coziness to wash the sleep off my face and brush the grime off of my teeth. I generally brush before I eat breakfast because first thing in the morning, I have the worst breath in the world. Death breath is what I like to call it.

I rummage through my clean clothes to find that everything is wrinkled. But I don't particularly care, since I'm just going to work. My co-workers wont notice, they're too busy trying to figure out how to wrap their heads around basic computer skills.

I walk to work in my MP3 music bubble knowing once I step foot into the office, I will likely be bombarded with unwanted conversation, sad unfunny jokes and awkward smells.
Still in the bubble, I walk in the door and chuckle inside at my co-workers. They still don't understand that headphones disable a persons ability to hear anything but what's coming through the electronic device in their pocket.

As I begin to work on five jobs at once, the printer/maintenance guy approaches my office. He's nice but the combination of being over 60 and Mennonite means that he is not funny and he loves to tell the same jokes over and over. He also has some of the worst manners I've ever seen. Once, in mid sentence he picked his psoriasis, looked at it and ate it. He also has no understanding of personal space. He tells me about something work related and then drags on the conversation. It is at this point that I continue to work and he gets noticeably irritated. I continue to type and revel in his annoyance of me, thinking about how "it's about time" that I annoy him for the countless times he has done so to me.

He finally leaves and then the secretary acts as though the world is going to end. A window has popped up on her computer asking her if she wants to install updates. She proceeds to frantically ask me what to do, reading off every word and number in the window. I tell her what to do (usually more than once) and then change my Facebook status to reflect the level of irritated that I am at. She continues to have these stroke outs a few more times during the day and towards the end, I just tell her I don't know. What I really want to say is "if you don't know how to use your computer, maybe you should get a different job. I don't have time to deal with your crap 5 times a day." And teaching her or the other guy does nothing. They just ask me the same things the next day, and the next day and the next day.

As lunch time rolls around I decide if I'm eating out or not, in order to avoid having to lose my appetite from watching the scab eater scarf down his lunch like there's no tomorrow. Once it's 4:30 I am dying to dive into my music bubble once again, to change over to the "real me" that was suppressed all day so I didn't lash out at incompetence or repetitiveness.

After 20 minutes of bubble time I am home. I hug my man and start dinner so I can satisfy the appetite of my favorite person of the day, Jeremy. We eat and chat a bit about our days, ignore a few telemarketing calls and sit down for some evening relaxation. I pull out the DDR mats to fill my exercise craving and then get ready for bed. I then drift off to dreamland to the sound of a Friends episode, hoping that I wont wake up countless times from overly imaginative dreams.